"Friday," said he, "you an' that ar Jack Spaniard had oughter be chucked into the harbor."
"What fur?" asked both the spies at once. "What have we been a doin' now?"
"What did you do to-day, when you came up here to find out how many fellers there was on board that vessel?" demanded the chief.
"Why, we jest pulled round," answered Friday. "We didn't raise no fuss."
"Didn't them soldiers speak to you?"
"Yes; an' we told 'em that we was jest lookin' round."
"I was sartin of it!" said the governor. "You've knocked our expedition higher'n the top of Mr. Newcombe's warehouse. Them 'cademy swells are on the watch now, an' I reckon we'll see some hot times before we can call ourselves the masters of that craft. But that sha'n't stop me. I said I'd sail to our island in her, an' I'm goin' to keep my promise."
The members of the Crusoe band were astonished, and not a little alarmed, at what had just transpired. To the chief it was as plain as daylight, that something had happened to arouse the suspicions of the students, and he imagined it was the careless manner in which the two spies had executed his orders. In this he was mistaken; for the blame rested entirely with Tom Newcombe. During the day he had accidentally run against some of the students on the street, and they, having been made acquainted with the history of the yacht, could not resist the temptation to talk to Tom about it.
"Newcombe," exclaimed Harry Green, who acted as spokesman for the party, "you don't know what you are missing by being shut up in that office all day. Why don't you ask your father to let you come back to the institute? We are having high old times there."
"O, I don't care if you are!" drawled Tom.